burn, burn, burn (baby doll)
by SketchySage
Summary: "It doesn't matter how sharp that brain of yours is, Princess. Because in the long run," Erik murmurs quietly as he circles the young trembling scientist, hungry golden brown eyes burning coals into her skin. "...any mind can be broken. And when have you ever known me to turn down a challenge." In which a familiar golden jaguar enters Shuri's dreams and takes over. Rape warning.
1. burning the leaves

She doesn't know why this is happening.

Well, that's a lie. _She knows exactly why._ She just doesn't understand why it's her. And why it has to be now.

After so many nights of trying to erase those bloodthirsty eyes from her mind, and throwing cold water on her face and giving pained but glowing smiles at T'Challa and her mother when they saw goosebumps forming along her skin after a sudden 'episode'. She had seen the nightmares as a petty problem that would resolve itself once she crushed her fear of that damned jaguar and cast his memory aside.

He was dead.

 _Gone_.

The eyes of the dead were not to be feared, or at least that's what her mother had whispered to her every night as a child. It's what T'challa had murmured softly into her neck when she stunned him awake sobbing in his room days after their father was killed.

 _The eyes of the dead were not to be feared..._

Shuri shuddered when she felt his lips trace a path from her shoulder to her neck, his breath as cold as ice but his lips seering into her skin as if they were branding her.

 _The eyes of the dead...were not to be feared..._

That's what they had told her.

They had told her that. They never lied to her. Never. So why was she so bloody _terrified_.

 _'Careful kitten'_ The nightmare suddenly murmured, as if sensing her growing anxiety. Shuri lifted her eyes, glaring with shaking irises at the large and rippling form of the man who had tried to kill her brother many a time and had almost, _almost_ , killed her.

 _'I might get carried away if that scent of yours gets anymore...'_ The jaguar spirit sucked in a breath as if relishing her pain. ' _tasty'_

She can only close her eyes and hope desperately that he'll release her soon. That she'll wake up, trembling and scrambling into the warm arms of her family- her _true_ family, and forget this torment even if just for a few hours.

She couldn't count how many times he's taken her within her dreams.

But she can feel the bruises he leaves even now. She can taste the blood on her tongue, the result of her digging her teeth too hard every time Erik growls and comes hard inside of her. Even for a dream- or rather, a nightmare- it feels too _real_.

Every bite mark, every scratch, and every thrust feels like her insides are being ripped inside out and her mind goes numb every time. Whether from the sensation of _him_ or just the result of her trying to block out this torment, it doesn't matter.

And the feeling never goes away. Not even when she wakes up.

It makes her seethe how nothing that she tries, vials and vials of liquid spirits and Librium that she hides from T'challa- nothing works to banish that demon from her mind.

She hasn't told anyone. She isn't sure if she wants to. But she knows eventually the self loathing inside of her will grow a fire, and eventually she won't be able to hide this. Not from T'challa. Maybe not from anyone.

She almost forgets why she hid it from him in the first place.

And suddenly Shuri can feel him again. Hard against her, warm lips brushing against her ear and making her skin tingle before the gold tips of his fangs sink into her skin, causing her to bite deeply into her tongue again, the old welts from before swelling as blood fills her mouth.

 _"I hate you_ " she whispers. And she means it.

No matter how over the edge he manages to send her, no matter how delicious the friction of their bodies feel as he moves against, above, and inside her- she hates him. Hates him with her entire being.

But he only chuckles breathily in her ear, flipping her body over so the tops of her breasts brush against his own rippling chest. She knows he can hear her heartbeat drumming against her ribcage. Just like she can feel his steadily beating, much calmer than her own.

She hates that too. That she can hear that sound at all. _Monsters_ dont have hearts. And that's what he is to her.

That doesn't stop her eyes from rolling into the back of her head though when he slowly lifts her leg over his shoulder and begins to push his way into her.

Shuri shudders and digs her nails into the ground. She can feel him trembling slightly too, as if her body is pulling the life from him. Only he seems to enjoy that experience a bit too much for her liking. She'd much prefer his pained screams to his tortured moans, but she isn't so lucky.

It doesn't take long for him to notice that she's wet from before. She always is. And this makes him smile, mouth full of glittering teeth as his gaze travels up to her face. Eyes glowing down at her like a victory that's been stolen.

She keeps her eyes closed even though she can feel the laughter dancing across his body, his thrusts growing by the second and her body quaking from the pressure.

She holds her breath until he finishes. Waits until he growls like an animal as he releases inside of her, large hard body collapsing on top of hers, his breath washing over her cheek as he slowly begins to gain control of himself.

He holds her afterwards. He always does.

But she never returns the embrace. She just waits quietly until he slowly removes himself from her. Golden eyes staring at her with an expression she can't name. He eventually kisses her one last time before the brief emotion in his eyes vanishes and he sends her hurtling back into the land of the consciousness.

She wakes up in a cold sweat. Sunlight washing over her skin... and the ache between her legs still as present as it had been before.

Slowly Shuri rolls over onto her stomach and buries her face into her arms.

She doesn't cry. At least not from her eyes. But her heart feels like its bleeding and she doesn't have the energy to try and hide it. Not today.

She doesn't move from that spot for the rest of the morning.

Not when the servants come to summon her for the first meal with her mother. Or when she's summoned to the throne room as a sudden 'visitor' has shown up requesting the presence of every panther-blood in the vicinity.

Not even when T'challa walks in, hours later after many failed attempts of the servants to rouse her- and kneels beside her, brushing the hair out of her face with his soft hands and begging her to look at him.

She's just... too tired.


	2. pulling the roots

Shuri learns fairly quickly that the worst thing he can do to her is make her body burn for him.

To make her body tremble at even the thought of his touch, even when he's not there to sate the needs he's forced her to have.

And truly, the feeling of pure unbridled shame fills her as he does just that, in a way more intense than any way he's attempted to do before.

Almost as ...if he's punishing her.

For what, she still has yet to realize.

Shuri can almost feel his amusement ripple throughout her body as she muffles her mouth with her right arm, left hand clutching at Eriks thick black dreads as he feasts between her legs, warm tongue and nipping teeth causing her toes to clench until they're scraping against the ground and bleeding raw.

When his teeth suddenly graze her sweet spot, her hips lift without thinking as the man above her digs his nails into her thighs, spreading them farther the deeper he goes and causing the most despicable sounds to leave Shuri's mouth as she's sent over the edge for the fourth time that night.

She hears him mutter a soft 'Fuck', and knows he's aroused when she feels his erection burning against her leg.

Shuri can only choke on another moan as Erik hums on her clit and causes yet another organismic wave to rack throughout her body.

Underneath the haze flooding her mind and the sheen of sweat on her skin, as the fallen 'king' begins to lap up every drop of sweat and cum that he's wrenched from her like a cat, is shame.

Shame that even with all her anger, even with all her hate- that her body is still able to react this way.

Shame that each night is now a chore of trying to fight the inevitable pleasure, when at the beginning all she was able to feel was pain and disgust.

It's easier when she can let the hatred simmer inside of her.

It's easier when she can lay there, almost as lifeless as a statue as he touches her or forces memories she does not want to know of inside her head.

But the trouble with not giving him the pleasure of a fight, is giving him the pleasure of finding her weaknesses.

Anyone can try to make their mind and body embody stone... until the hands stroking and fondling over them manages to find a spot that can't be ignored. Even the tiniest changes in her expression, from the blankness to a slight flinch of a muscle or a tiny strangled gasp from her lips always clues him in on what makes her tick. And it's only a matter of time before she's writhing underneath him and cursing her own body.

Shuri knows she can't be soft.

She can't be light and gaily and brush off the pain- she can't be the upbeat and snarky girl her family so loves- not when she's here, not when she's with him.

Even if its all inside of her head, her body is still worn and broken when she awakens- and the only way she knows how to spite him in this place, is to maintain control of the one thing he cant completely manipulate- herself.

But it becomes harder as the tolls roll by, her body growing weaker every day. The only true escape she's found is just to not sleep at all. But the bags under her eyes and the limp to her step will lead to questions. Questions she can't answer without T'challa, and her mother, going off the deep end thinking she's attracted a incubus into her mind,- and worse yet- it taking on the face of Killmonger? She could already see the distress, the pain, and anger. She would never be able to live down her shame.

Besides, losing sleep makes her shoddier, less efficient in her work in the lab, and weaker when she finally has to succumb to rest and ends up finding him in her dreams. Waiting. Smiling. And ready to punish.

That night she tries to spend her time testing a new prototype of her brothers suit, testing the limits of kinetic energy buildup so that it doesn't explode in his face like in their last mission- one that had almost ended in disaster truth be told. And she knows part of the blame belongs to her, since her growing distance has caused both her brother and mother to grow anxious about her. She was able to feel T'challa's quiet unease throughout the entire ordeal, and hated herself for worrying him.

So she takes out her frustration in the lab. She works until her bones ache, sending all the royal servants away until she's alone in the large enclosure- fighting her exhaustion until a cloak of darkness finally envelops her mind.

And she sleeps, knowing who is waiting

Shuri opens her eyes to find him hovering over her, golden eyes burning into hers. He moves his head to the hollow of her neck, nuzzling her throat in an almost gentle fashion. A sharp contrast to the trace of his knuckles as he skims the length of her nightgown, smaller than the clothes she'd been wearing in the lab, and the fabric much, much thinner.

She swallows deeply when he trails his large hand down her chest, to her stomach. To the curve between her hip and thigh. Lower...

Shuri jerks against him when she feels his knuckle press against her folds, his heat suffocating her as his entire body engulfs her own.

"I want you to scream for me." He murmurs suddenly, his voice husky and muffled as he buries his face into her neck, the hairs of his beard smarting against her skin and the fist prodding at her center pressing deeper and deeper the more she tries to squirm away.

Her voice is barely a whisper, but her tone is a lot less shaky than she expects when Eriks teeth graze her pulse and he bites down.

"Fuck. You." she says. She doesn't flinch, much to her own surprise, when the older mans hand grinds deep into her, almost painfully. The cloth of her nightgown begins to rip from the pressure. For a moment, the familiar haze that surrounds her whenever he sends her back to the land of the 'living' as she so likes to coin it for when he releases her from these nightmares, envelopes her body. She wonders if he's irritated or even surprised that she's resorting to biting words after so many nights of silence. But then she feels his body shaking above her. And realizes he's laughing. At her.

Again.

"You bad girl. Of course I will." He breathes, his hard chest shaking with mirth. "But not before you beg like a good little princess," Erik says again, this time his tone almost teasing as he moves his mouth away from her throat, lowing his mouth to brush against the surface of her breasts instead, tongue flicking out to trace their curves, before circling on a nipple and causing her to inhale sharply, much to his further amusement.

"I'll even say please" he adds lightly, almost mockingly as he removes his tongue from her skin, as if considering something.

"Or...I could just as easily make you."

He shifts his weight until she's pinned to the floor from the weight of his torso, his free hand tauntingly dipping into his pants to free himself.

Shuri thinks about T'challa and his worried gaze from that morning when, for the first time, she refused to even leave her bedroom. Refused to walk with him down to the gardens. Refused to even look at him.

The pained confusion of his voice rings throughout her mind as Erik holds her gaze, hands sliding down her body.

'I am stone' She repeats softly in her mind, teeth gritting painfully as Erik- or rather this demon who looks like him, grabs her by her thighs and hoists her up, swinging her legs over his hips and hitching up her cloak. Her chest always tightens to a painful knot when he makes her face him as he claims her.

She prefers it when her back is to him, when she doesn't have to see him- even with the uncomfortable grip of his claw like hold on her hips as he holds her steady- almost like an animal he has to tame- which was irony to her considering which one of them truly embodied a wild beast.

When she isn't facing him as he's manipulating her body to his whims, she can at least close her eyes and force herself to numb it all away. To mentally and steadily count down until its over. Until he lets her wake up again.

But when he's pressing her chest into his like this, leaving no room for her to breath, or to turn away as he lifts a hand to grab her by the hair and yank her head back, mouth hotly descending on hers, his teeth sinking into her lip- it's impossible to be stone. Impossible not to react to him.

She doesn't beg for it like he demands her to, his voice gravelly and his gaze as hot as a furnace. Even if she wasn't a royal, begging wasn't in her blood and never would be. Especially not to him. Never to him.

She wouldn't give him, or anyone, the satisfaction of having her bend to them willfully like some puppet without a mind of her own.

Or at least, that's what she tells herself as Erik slowly and painstakingly grinds into her, every stroke of his hardness against her sex causing a fog to surround her mind, warmth pooling between both of their legs as he hooks a finger under knot of the cloth that covers her breasts. She's so small compared to him. Her skin so smooth, features so youthful compared to his rugged, animalistic appearance, and he seems to find that pleasing- while she can only wish she had the manpower to snap his neck before he could touch her any further.

She burns under his gaze as he ogles her body without a hint of shame, causing her to glare at him in return, only to clench her eyes shut when his lips spread into a maneating smile and in seconds his mouth is burning hotly on her left breast once again. Suddenly there's a wall pressed against her back. Before he had been carrying all of her weight, now her torso is terse against a flat surface while the dark man before her adjusts the weight of her legs, positions himself just right and, for lack of a better word- devours her.

And he's right, much to her chagrin.

She does scream before the night is over.

* * *

T'challa had only felt unease with his sister once before in his life. That day being after his return to Wakanda. After their fathers passing.

Before that morning at least, there had been next to no occasion where he had felt that same dreaded feeling twice. Never so intensely.

That wasn't to say that they hadn't clashed before, or that she hadn't caused him to sigh in disdain every now and then when she was being particularly stubborn. Her unpredictability had become so common and her growing curiosity for everything she had been taught to stay away from had caused him to show concern over her. But that was to be expected. Worrying over Shuri was natural, finding himself on the receiving end of her endless teasing, mood swings, and pranks was something he had learned to see as signs that she was just a healthy, growing young woman. With a penchant for annoying him, but he loved her for it. There were times where he had seen her distressed, or sad over the years. Of course there had been.

But never had his heart bled as much as it had then when his little sister crept into the cave he had retreated to after returning home after his fathers death. He had been cold. From the rain. From the hard stone floor of the cave. And from the pain of losing someone he had cherished his entire life only to lose him to a monster. He knew his mother wouldn't be able to bare it to see her son grieving so openly. And the tension it would cause in the palace...no. He knew he needed that time alone, for himself. And not just for him, but for everyone.

So he had welcomed the rain and the thunder. Crouching low, body retreating into itself, and his body becoming just as stoic as the cave walls themselves, T'challa had let himself drown in the overwhelming emotion that he had been fighting every since he came back. At one point he couldn't have known whether the wet trails continuously falling down his face and pooling on the stone floor were raindrops anymore, rather than his own tears.

Soon the thunder had been drowned out as well until the sound became a dull hum at the back of his mind. He had closed his eyes, blocking out the chaos of the forests surrounding the cave. Blocking out the turmoil that easily resembled the swaying trees and tossing leaves that flew about outside the cave. He remembered his father teaching him so many things when he was a child. How to yield focus. To filter his mind and the world around him to find peace. And how to dance happily in the reaping of harvest. Soon memories had overtaken him, and the storm was all but forgotten.

That is, until he felt a cold shaking hand brush against his shoulder. He remembered his body, so calm and one with his surroundings. Only to be shaken out of his reverie, a knife in his hand and aimed at the intruders throat in seconds. When he see's Shuri though, his hackles lower. The furrow at his brow grows smaller, though still visible as he takes in the sight of his younger sister kneeling before him, wet braids framing her face. The usual mischievous sparkle in her eye was nowhere to be seen. Her typical quirk at the edge of her lips absent as well. What had truly unsettled him though, were her eyes.

Those eyes, as black as midnight on it's most silent, were filled with unshed tears that glittered as lightning flashed over her body.

T'challa remembered his heart sinking like a rock into his stomach as she held his gaze unblinkingly, more vulnerable than he'd seen her be in years. She hadn't cried since she was an infant. Whether bloody knees from too much 'fun' in the gum trees or from not getting her way- Shuri's temper had always been an integral part of her, but tears were a nonfactor. An outlier- Shuri had adopted her stance early on that since tears couldn't solve her problems she would never waste her energy on them.

But that night had been different.

They had both lost a part of themselves when T'chaka was killed. Even if Shuri hadn't been there during the explosion, she was here now, in a world without her father. While her mother was broken. And while T'challa...well. He could be the first to admit he was broken too.

But if there was one thing that T'challa put above anything else, it was the safety and happiness of his family.

They had needed him. And there was no chance he would deny them comfort, even if he was barely holding on himself. That was not the prince T'chaka had raised him to be. That was not the man he had raised him to be.

So T'challa had swept his baby sister into his arms and held her throughout the storm, whispering soothing stories as their mother Ramonda had done for him when he was a child. Shuri didn't say a word throughout her brothers embrace but she didn't push him away as her tears finally fell on the floor of the cave, the rain overpowering the salt droplets in seconds.

That night his heart broke for his sister.

It was the first time he held dread in his heart, knowing he could never replace their father, but also knowing he now had a responsibility to be the rock of his family even in his darkest hours.

But something had shifted in his sister recently. It was the little things she used to do. Mostly to show her moods, when she was annoyed- chewing at her left cheek was something she resorted to. The slight tap of her fingers against her knee when she was giddy about something, or the way her eyes constantly glittered with excitement as she expanded their technology and studied the outside world through a lense.

Now she just seemed...empty.

T'challa was a painfully open book when it came to his loved ones, but he wasn't blind as a result.

That morning when she refused to even meet his gaze as her body retreated within itself, it had only been the nail in the coffin for what had been a long time nagging at the back of his head that something was wrong. When he brushed her hair away from her face, he found that her skin was cold, yet sweat trailed down her body in waves. His eyes instantly fell to a small bruise on her neck, and T'challa felt his face twist and his eyebrows furrow deep enough to form lines in his skin.

She had dismissed him before he could ask anything properly. Kept her gaze averted stiffly from his own prying eyes until she shut the door in his face and told him she would meet him at the lab in an hour.

He spent the better part of a minute staring silently at the door before he finally turned to leave, lifting his wrist and summoning Okoye.

When the hologram materialized before him, the dark eyes of his general met his own, an annoyed curve to her lips.

"Your majesty, that barbaric American is still requesting for you and Lady Shuri. How soon will you two be arriving?" 'Before I shove my spear through his chest' was the unspoken ending to the generals sentence. T'challa sighed deeply. Okoye's tone was full of venom, a clear sign that their visitor was breaching on her last nerve.

At any other moment in time, T'challa would be sympathetic. But the air around him seemed to bleed as concern for Shuri's well-being swept through his body.

Something was off about her. She smiled like always. Worked as hard as she'd always done. But her spirit had changed. And not in a good way.

And the spirits be damned, he wasn't going to let her suffer when he didn't even know what the cause of her suffering was.

" **Okoye**." T'challa demanded, his voice low and hard enough to cause his general to pause, her eyes glinting in curiosity. "Tell our guest that we'll be postponing this trip for one more day. Something...urgent has come to my attention."


	3. tangling the vines

_"I don't just want your heart. I want your flesh, your skin and blood, your voice, your thoughts, your pulse, and most of all your fingerprints- everywhere."_

Shuri collapses to the floor, knees pulled up to hide her face as she counts to ten slowly, inhaling deeply each time.

It takes her several moments to calm herself down after T'challa is gone. And when she's finally able to think clearly again she curses at herself for failing to recover swiftly enough.

The damage had been done.

She'd never been so cold to him before.

And he'd seen her like this... ill and trembling like a kitten. No way in hell would he dismiss it. She knew her brother too well to even consider that.

She would need to put so much more effort than usual to reassure him that nothing was wrong. Fat chance too, since she could barely keep herself together as it was.

Not when she was still _burning._

 _' **Why**? Why do you hate me?'_

 _'That was your first mistake. Assuming that I ever did.'_

That night...he had been more intense in taking her. More relentless. He hadn't just tried to hurt her. He had tried to break her. To make her, as he so plainly admitted, _scream_.

And oh had she screamed. And he didn't spare her when she finally did. Instead he went even harder, hadnt left her room to breathe, his touch as hot as a furnace and an almost desperate energy to the way he took her against that wall.

He had seemed almost...angry.

Why?

Shuri sits with her back to the door, heart pounding and head aching. She clenches her thighs instinctively when she suddenly remembers the feel of him inbetween her legs. How _weak_ he'd managed to make her feel.

Shuri shudders, banishing the memory from her mind.

She tries to remember what T'challa had been saying to her when he came into her room. She can still feel his touch on her skin, warm and soft but not enough to snap her out of her quiet hysteria. She recalls the servants and their strained pleas. She tries to remember the words...but their voices are muddled, distant in her head. Drowned out by the loud ringing in her eardrums.

' _Bloody_ _hell_...' Shuri sighs inwardly, a grimace to her lips as she heaves her body off the ground and lifts a finger to one of the beads on her bracelet.

When the private systems she'd installed inside recognize her fingerprint, an electronic hum sounds throughout the room as a space in the wall beside her sinks inward, a blue screen flickering on mere seconds later.

Shuri forces her fingers to stop shaking long enough to enter the code and sighes with relief when the wall slowly slides open, revealing several shelves topped with vials. Untouched. Unchanged. And undiscovered.

Shuri reaches in, fingers skimming each bottle before stopping on one. She openes it quickly, lifting her gaze to the door as if someone will enter at any moment, and pours the blue liquid into her mouth in one quick throaty swallow.

By the time she puts the vial back and has the wall secured, her headache is already subsiding, the blood is returning to her skin, and as she wipes at her forehead, she closes her eyes in relief when there is not a drop of sweat left.

Shuri inhales deeply as she turnes away, hands lifting to her chest and neck, fingers trailing across the bruises there before she changes into something that can better hide them.

For the past few weeks her dreams had been growing more vivid. More...painful.

Of course before Erik had revealed his intentions she had, at first, seen the nightly visits as simple nightmares. But nightmares could be treated, from her experience. One session in one of her pods could send almost anyone into a dreamless slumber as her systems rerouted the subjects brain electrons from within.

When the pods failed to work for her however, that's when the concern began. Then the dreams started to get worse the more she attempted to cease them. Soon she found that she couldn't force herself to wake up of her own will.

And then the pain started. When she gained consciousness, she'd find that Eriks assaults on her would still leave bruises on her body, most in the shape of his hands, others from his teeth- none of which could be explained away. She certainly wasn't a wild sleeper. There was no chance she had put the marks there herself.

What had truly been the final nail in the coffin was that the security cameras she had installed in her room showed no one entering the premises at night, which meant whatever control Erik wielded inside of her mind was a lot more dangerous than she had originally thought.

Confronting him in her dreams were of no help. After all, she knew he could do worse. The question was why he hadn't yet. When she demanded answers, he would always flash that damned smile and punish her body _more_ as if challenging her, knowing that her concerns lied less with herself and more with what would happen if others saw her in that state, tried to intervene, and found themselves pulled into his little game.

And she knew that wasn't an option. Not for her. She fixed problems. Never made them for anyone else. Especially not now, so soon after her brothers crowning, their opening to the outside world, and Eriks death...

Shuri clenches her teeth as she walkes down the hall from her room, too deep in thought to care when the servants openly eye her from their positions.

She'd realized quickly enough that if she couldn't prevent that demon from causing damage, the only thing to do until she could find a way of destroying him was to work fast to heal herself. There was no way she could focus on the important positions T'challa had put her in if she let that demon have his way. Especially after that last butchered mission.

Her nails sink into the bruise on her neck when a wave of irritation flashes through her at the memory. She couldn't let anything like that happen again. Not because of him...

And not because of her.

* * *

"Lady Shuri," one of the scientists that frequented her lab, a lanky young man named Abdul, greeted her as she entered the enclosure. "It's good to see you up. You're needed currently in the throne room. Do you need me to-"

"Abdul. Please prepare a pod for me. Now would be preferable. Before my brother gets here." Shuri cut in, adjusting her sweater as she swiftly walked past the young scientist and headed to her desk.

"You can manage that right?" The princess mutters, turning her head to the side in order to glance at him when a beat of silence awkwardly settles.

Abdul gaps at her for a moment, having never heard her take such a tone with him before, but quickly recovers, a serious look replacing the shock as he turns to do as she says.

"Of course Lady Shuri. Which one shall I prepare."

"Thank you. One of the healing pods. Set it to the cryo-function. I just need ten minutes."

Shuri says it with such nonchalance but the young scientist pauses in his step, a furrow to his brow.

He slowly turns back to the princess, who is either oblivious or simply ignoring his hesitation.

"May I ask what you need it for?" He asks after a moment, tone serious and full of concern.

"Indeed. I'm curious as well." A painfully familiar deep voice adds, echoing across the labratory walls and freezing Shuri to the spot. It's T'challa. Her blood runs cold when she hears his voice. Burning, waiting, and demanding an explanation.

Her hands itch to reach up and clutch at her neck to cover her bruise but she forces the urge away, after all her sweater already hid them well and doing so would only be suspicious.

Regardless the scratches on her back burn when she feels her entire body stiffen once her brothers presence is announced.

Hadn't she told him...to come in an hour? It had barely been twenty minutes. How long had he...

Shuri bites at the inside of her cheek, fustration filling her as she turns to see her brother leaning idly against the wall, arms folded and eyes calmly burning into her own.

In that moment, he looks just like Erik.


	4. ø

**snippet of a scene that is post-chapter 2 and pre-chapter 3**

* * *

 _Okoye's relay of her kings command is met with shock._

 _Then frustration._

 _And finally; anger._

 _"I don't understand. We can't wait any longer, you see me standing here, you know I've spoken no lies...Summon him again. He knows how urgent this is."_

 _"Silence." Okoye's teeth are fierce as she gestures for the rest of the Dora Malij to seize their guest. "You are not to speak on sacred ground without my kings blessing. And never question his majesty ever again."_

 _"For a warrior, you seem to rest on your haunches a little too long in the face of danger. You sense it too, I **know** you do."_

 _"I said sil-"_

 _" **If you want me to be silent, then gag me as you did before.** But oh...your king forbids it." A bitter laugh, and then "Well he didn't forbid you to kill me. Do it then, you know it won't make a difference."_

 _"..."_

 _In the face of her silent anger, a cold smile forms on his lips._

 _"So you do learn after all."_

 _Okoye's eyes harden. And then before he can react, she twists her spear to lets it slide threatening against his throat, neither of their gazes breaking from each other. Her fellow royal guard release their holds on him once they see Okoye's anger, and step back._

 _"You do know that nothing will protect you from me if you betray us. One misstep. One mistake. Just one threat towards my king, or my nation... not even Bast will stop me from killing you."_

 _"If your king doesn't heed my warnings, you won't be alive long enough to try, doll."_


	5. pouring the seeds

" _Indeed. I'm curious as well."_

T'challa's voice carries over the entire room, heavy, thick, and demanding answers.

His voice is soft. It usually is.

But right now, despite his quiet demeanor- his tone is as steely as a kings.

Like their fathers used to be, in the rare moments of his anger.

Sometimes she forgets this. That her brother is so much like their father.

And in the brief moments after his words finally register in her mind, the silence is deafening.

T'challa's muscles are taut as he studies Shuri's reaction.

Her back is to him as she leans over her computer, hands stilling over the keyboard once she knows he's there. Her shoulders stiffen ever so slightly, the muscles in her back tighten, and for a moment there is no movement at all from her before she turns towards him.

Their gazes meet.

His gaze is full of stone before they look into hers, but then he cracks when he actually sees the emotion in them.

They are full of fear.

Not fear of _him_ , at least. Not exactly, he can sense that immediately. But seeing her like this at all feels so alien, so wrong, that T'challa almost growls right there in anger because _who the hell would even dare_ -

A wall forms between them the next second, as if she can sense his growing agitation.

T'challa frowns as her previously wide eyed gaze grows calm and controlled before he can discern anything that can tell him what he needs to know.

T'challa's eyes narrow before he can stop himself. It takes all of his willpower not to let his emotions get the best of him. Because there had never been any secrets between them before, not like this.

There had never been any _lies_.

Vocal, silent, or otherwise.

And yet she is staring at him, shoulders drawn back and face eerily calm as if she hadn't been gaping at him with a face full of pain and apprehension seconds before.

Seeing her like this, it bothers him.

If he had been the emotional and naive young boy he was before she was born, before his father fully took him under his wing, then the anger and frustration he felt boiling underneath the surface of his stoic aura would have reared its ugly head the second she slipped a calm mask - _since when had she ever had the ability to even muster masks **in front of him**_ \- over her features.

He was hurt that she needed to hide anything from him at all. Confused on what could have possibly happened in such a short time without him _noticing._

There is anger bursting within his subconscious whenever he thinks back to the bruise he had stared at dumbstruck, a following desperation to know _how_ it got there- because the thick sweater she's wearing isn't just for show.

And if harm had come to her in any shape or form then not even Bast could tell him to look the other way.

With this final thought the muscles in T'challa's jaw and shoulders tighten as he pushes himself off of the wall he'd silently rested against since entering her lab, and for a moment he almost feels like an old man as he walks towards his little sister, his smoldering eyes studying her with every long stride he takes before he's only a foot away from the princess.

"Well?" He murmurs, an expression full of expectation smoothening across his features.

A hint of the old Shuri sparks before him then as she arches an eyebrow, her own face displaying clear annoyance at how authoritative he's being before her.

Seeing this almost relieves him, until the princess actually opens her mouth as if to answer him.

Only to hesitate.

Even with all the emotions and conflicting thoughts that had been battling against each other as he waited for her to walk through that door, seeing her standing before him now and struggling to think of something to say has _him_ hesitating as well. This entire situation unnerves him.

But one thing he head learned in his short reign as king, was that nothing good became of him digging bigger holes for himself. He didn't come here to drown in silence after all, he had come for answers.

So he tilts his head towards Abdul, who had been struck silent the second the two royals had begun their awkward silent stare off.

"Leave us alone for now. In fact...clear the room." T'challa quietly murmurs, his gaze never leaving Shuri's as he addresses the boy scientist. He knows that if he's going to get anything from his sister, there's no way she'll open up to him if they have an audience.

And he has a feeling she won't appreciate him dragging her out of the lab either.

Abdul hesitates however at the order, his eyes flickering to Shuri, who had immediately turned to her back to both of them in order to sink into her chair once she realized she'd have to face T'challa alone.

"And the pod...?" Abdul finally ask, his voice slightly unsteady, a drop of sweat falling from his brow.

Shuri waves a dismissive hand.

"I'll activate it myself, you can go now Abdul."

Her voice is as quiet as T'challa's. But there is no steel there.

it's simply _wary._

Abdul doesn't respond. He can only bow before quickly retreating from the two quiet royals.

When the young scientist is gone, something seems to shift in the air. The lights above them glare, the hums of the machines seem to deafen.

And Shuri seems to grow smaller and smaller as she doesn't turn to meet T'challa's inquiring gaze again. Her gaze blankly pointed towards the computer screens in front of her.

"Shuri. _What's_ _wrong_." Her brother murmurs, his voice warmer than before.

Not stern.

But almost pleading.

So similar to the voices of the servants from that morning.

And just like then, she can't think of anything to say.

So she doesn't say anything at all.

T'challa sighs once it becomes clear he'll only be rewarded with silence.

After a moment of just standing there, he folds his hands behind his back, head bowed slightly towards the ground.

He closes his eyes for a moment, as if mustering up something inside of him.

But then...nothing. He doesn't open them up again. He doesn't say anything. Doesn't move.

A few minutes go by before Shuri's unmoving stance across from him becomes uncomfortable.

She wonders how it came to this unsettling place where she can't even tell what her brother is thinking. And wonders why she had to be put in such a position in the first place.

Shuri almost laughs bitterly then. The irony really, she had put herself here. In this place where she wasn't herself anymore. If he was acting like their father then she knew he was upset. Truly upset, not the playful annoyance she was constantly subject to throughout the years of mocking him.

Even now, feeling him silently stand there, eyes closed and body almost a statue, she can sense waves of pure emotion rolling off him, all of it barely suppressed and no doubt because of her.

Shuri can only inhale deeply.

She must've done something to tip him off.

Not surprising either, considering just how out of it she had been that morning.

She almost seethes, because she can barely remember anything from earlier that morning. Everything that had happened before swallowing her very temporary cure for the dreams were hazy, and the memories were distorted as if she had been underwater and barely alive. She doesn't recall saying anything strange other than her abrupt dismissal of him, but then again she doesn't remember much of anything anymore other than trying to keep her sane mind.

Whatever she had said or done, or what she hadn't done- it didn't matter now. Her brother rarely slunk into her lab and waited for her like this, nor did he ever use his 'chieftain voice' in her presence unless he was irked about something. And her brother was rarely angry, and never at her- so she knew she had fallen into a pit that would take a lot of climbing and few miracles to get out of.

It seems that in trying to keep her own mind intact however, she'd hurt him.

That... wasn't what she wanted.

That's exactly what she'd been trying to _avoid_.

"Brother..." Shuri finally says, her voice a lot steadier than she had been expecting as rolls her chair around to face toward T'challa's still form, hands clenching and unclenching at her sides because it doesn't just hurt to _move_ , it hurts to _see_ him like this. "I don't know what to say."

He opens his eyes then, and his gaze is heavy. Shuri watches as her brothers lip turn upwards into something that is not smile.

"That makes two of us."

She can now see the stress lines that formed in his skin as he stares at her, the emotions she had felt emitting off of him earlier displayed plainly before her in his eyes as he looks up at her now, hand placed against the bottom half of his face as if restraining himself from speaking too soon, too rashly. But she knows him too well. He fails. Because how can he stay silent, when it concerns her.

"You were watching, during my press meeting with the UN." T'challa finally murmurs, his eyes flickering away for a moment. "And when I saw you again, you ran to me, laughing and embracing me. Do you remember why."

Shuri's eyebrows furrow before she bites at her cheek, quickly understanding where he's going with this. He always did love to play puzzles or stalling games with her that she could easily solve, no matter how annoyingly overused she felt they were.

She answers him anyway, since resisting wouldn't do much to help her in the long run.

"Because of what you said to that _corny_ politician." Shuri mutters, smiling slightly when her brother looks at her, his eyes almost scolding. Her smile grows bigger when the facade falls and he shakes his head at her.

"Not just because of that."

"No...not just that."

T'challa looks at her quietly, and when Shuri's eyes soften, he smiles.

"Building bridges..." He murmurs, lifting a hand as if prompting her to continue. And thankfully she does, a mixture of relief and sadness on her face as she lifts her own hand and slides her chair across the room to place it in his.

"Instead of barriers." Shuri finishes, her other hand finally lifting to brush against her sweaters collar.

Near the bruise.

Her brother follows her movements carefully, his eyes growing serious. He leans down on his knees so he's eye level with her, and this time Shuri doesn't hesitate in meeting his gaze, though there's worry wafting off her just as intensely as it had been from him earlier.

"So tell me sister," T'challa says after a moment of inner debate, removing his hand from hers and placing it in the same spot near her neck. "What is the meaning of this?"

He doesn't lower the collar. He respects her boundaries too much for that. But he leaves no room for confusion when he firmly places his hand against hers, over the bruise, so she'll understand exactly what he is referring to.

And going by the twist that her lips form at the question, she does understand.

"I...cant tell you that yet." She says, voice firm, no hesitation in her gaze as she removes his hand along with hers and lowers both to the armrest on her chair. Enough to show him she doesn't want him to pry, but not a complete brushing off of his concern, since she begins to play with his fingers idly after.

T'challa blinks at her. Stunned. Before his own lips twist as well.

 _"Why._ " He asks simply, his gaze piercing as well as confused.

"Because this particular bridge isn't one you can safely tread." Shuri murmurs, her gaze falling to their hands. "I need to fix this on my own."

When T'challa's face twists into disbelief, Shuri quickly tries to divert the situation, her expression taking on a taunting air.

"Besides, you have kingly things to attend to, and several places you should have been to by, like, yesterday. And I have a date with one of my pods before I can give you the equipment you need. So if you'll excuse me-"

"Shuri this is no time for jokes," T'challa's voice is incredulous as he places his hands firmly on her arm to keep her from retreating.

"And _I know_ that." She snaps, her tone growing sharp as she wrenches herself away, knowing he wont dare restrain her if she's unwilling, as she rises from her seat- her hand abruptly leaving his. "But if I thought it was bad enough to involve you, I'd do so. But it _isn't_."

"What isn't, Shuri. What is this _it_ you're referring to. Because _**that**_ ," T'challa whispers, eyes beginning to blaze as he gestures sharply to her neck. "Isn't _nothing._ "

"It can be if you let it!" She insists, eyes burning with tears she refuses to let fall as her brothers pain begins to affect her.

Why did that demon have to ruin everything, why did she have to be so confused, why did she have to do this to her brother, to herself - why couldn't things just be _normal again._

"And why should I let it?" T'challa exclaims, the confusion in his eyes growing as well as the volume of his voice and the little calm he'd managed until now beginning to crumble. "Why Shuri? I'm not just your brother, I'm your _king_ \- what kind of king would let someone he loves suffer."

Shuri closes her eyes in frustration.

When he was like this it was _always_ a losing battle.

 _'He's right you know.'_ An ominous voice echoes in her mind, following her brothers pained words before she can even think of something to say. It isn't even a second before she realizes whose voice it belongs to.

Shuri shakes her head, fighting off the haze- and turns away when T'challas eyebrows furrow at her sudden trembling form.

 _'It isn't **nothing**. I am not ' **nothing** '. And the sooner you stop fighting the inevitable, the faster this can be over'_

Shuri's lips begin to tremble, because she knows this is what he wants.

He wants T'challa to be lured in.

Angry. Confused. Vulnerable.

Because of her.

How _dare_ he.

 _'No.'_ Shuri hisses inwardly, her hands lifting to her temples as if attempting to banish him by pure will alone. _' **Shut up. NO.** '_

"Shuri?" T'challa's voice is distorted. Muddled. As if she's underwater.

 _As if she's dreaming._

"Hey- what's...Shuri? Look at me, why are you- _look at me_... _Shuri_?"

She hears her brother approaching her, his hand brushing against her back. He's worried. Almost frantic, and it takes her several moments before she realizes she has stumbled to the floor, T'challa catching her before she can hurt herself. He's saying something. Asking her something as he pulls her closer to him.

His fingers pressing into the fabric of her sweater, near the small of her back.

The cuts on her skin burn.

They _burn_.

 _And before she can even stop herself she sees him_

 _Standing there, marks glowing in the darkness_

 _Smiling at her..._

 _No_

 _At **him**_

 _She nearly chokes_

 _There is a burning within her chest_

 _a cold twist of power surging in her_ _veins_

 _and although his head is empty_

 _his heart is heavy_

 _and full_

 _"If you continue along this path. You will break."_

 _Bast is not smiling down upon him_

 _no god ever has_

 _but she's **burning**_

 _and so he burns too_

 _and he knows_

 _the time for waiting_

 _it's over_

 _"I've always been broken."_

Before she can stop herself, Shuri gasps and wrenches herself away- the pain clear in her voice as she snaps out of the reverie. She snaps her head up and sees T'challa staring at her, trying to register what he'd just seen.

T'challa withdraws his hand, his concerned expression growing dark with realization.

Shuri, now completely light headed and breathing harshly, wishes she could disappear, because for once his touch isn't comforting.

Because it feels like _him_.

T'challa looks at her covered neck. His eyes trailing down to her arms.

Stomach.

Legs.

His eyes travel over her body, as if seeing every scar.

And then his face grows heavy. The blaze in his eyes flicker like flames. He almost looks ill the longer he stares.

And Shuri can hear the bitter laughter in her head, laughing at _her_.

And then,

Silence.

Neither of them say a word.

What _can_ they say.

She expects him to turn away from her. She almost wants him to.

There is nothing in his eyes that tells her he can even bare to look at her.

"I..." T'challa says instead, before he pauses, his eyebrows furrowing as he turns to look away from her for a moment.

And all Shuri can think to herself as her brother battles his own demons, is that she wishes she could turn back time.

It's a recurring thought.

When T'challa looks at her again, Shuri notices that the corners of his eyes are wet.

"I need you to come with me. I...I need you to see something."

Shuri's eyebrows arch slightly, confusion filling her as T'challa reaches for her, pulling her to her feet and holding her arms tightly when she almost stumbles again.

She ignores the burn of her injuries, and almost forgets about hiding them entirely as T'challa lifts her into the air, her hands reaching to grab him by the arm. She feels light headed, and desperately wants to get to a pod so she can at least clear her mind to deal with this. Her brother hadn't acted like this since she was a child!

"What-" Shuri demands, or rather begs, as she's carried out of the lab, her eyebrows furrowing in surprise, confusion, and several other emotions she can barely name as they run through her. "Wait. You have a plane to catch T'challa. I have to-"

"Whatever it is can wait." T'challa's voice is firm.

It is clear he isn't in the mood for a fight, and when Shuri opens up her mouth again as if to argue, he silences her with a look.

Shuri bites her tongue.

For once...it doesn't bleed.


End file.
